


Cooking With....

by RicePips



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Chakotay cooks, Chakotay strokes his buns, F/M, Janeway is frustrated, Leola Root, Tom swears, cooking with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 19:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16352474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RicePips/pseuds/RicePips
Summary: Tom arranges a ‘Cooking with...’ activity to help raise morale.





	Cooking With....

**Author's Note:**

> These characters are not mine. 
> 
> I apologise in advance for mistakes, they are all mine and the product of a tired mind! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little piece of silly....

Tom Paris arranges a ‘Cook with…’ night on Voyager in the mess hall. It’s all part of his huge plan to encourage more Team Spirit amongst the staff and with Neelix as his aide, the morale of the staff looks set to improve. 

The idea is simple. Every Tuesday evening, those not working could meet in the Mess Hall and enjoy watching their fellow crew mates cooking up something interesting. 

Anybody can take part and demonstrate their cooking abilities to the crew, and afterwards, everyone can have a taste, which delights everyone as it means less Leola root. 

Tom starts off the proceedings by cooking up a favourite of his. A 20th century classic of lasagne served with garlic bread. Tom is a messy cook and the cooking area resembles a war zone, but the smells that fill the air are mouthwatering. He’s also easily distracted, an audience encourages him to regale the crowd with his witty banter and he gets so engrossed in one tale, his béchamel begins to burn. 

Once his masterpiece is completed, he encourages Neelix to try it first, much to Neelix’s happiness. 

He takes an enormous forkful and smacks his lips, eyebrows quivering excitedly. 

“Very wonderful, Tom!” Neelix exclaims. He looks thoughtful for a moment, “But, you could make this extremely amazing with a lovely  
Leola root jus.”

The audience groan, but Neelix is oblivious. Whilst Tom serves up samples for his audience, Neelix disappears to make his said jus. Everyone eats quickly before he can return. 

The night is a great success and it inspires others to sign up. 

The following week, Tuvok takes his place. The evening drags on. Tuvok is a methodical cook and every step is explained in deep detail. He makes his own version of Lirs, and when after four hours of cooking it’s finally ready to sample, most of the crew are asleep. However, once again, Neelix is chief taster. He samples excitedly, choking on the grains in his eagerness to please Tuvok. 

Again, the audience are impressed, though there are grumbles that Tom needs to put a time limit on the evening. 

B’Elanna takes her turn the next week. Any worries about the evening being long were quickly put to rest by B’Elanna and her aggressively quick style of cooking. It mainly involved lots of raw meat and what can only be described as a “flash-fry” in a hot pan amid blood and spices. 

When Neelix mentions his Leola root shavings that he feels will add an inner ‘depth’ to the meal, the air turns decidedly chilly despite the heat of B’Elanna’s spices. 

“Put Leola root anywhere near that and I’ll stab you in the eye with it!” B’Elanna growls menacingly much to the mirth of the audience. 

Janeway has joined the gathering for the first time, and she too chuckles at the look on her Chief Engineer’s face as she threatens the Talaxian cook. 

“Will you be partaking, Captain?” Ayala questions from the nearby table. “In the cooking, I mean?”

Janeway waves a dismissive hand and chuckles, “I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly inflict my cookery skills on the crew.”

“You’re not a cook then?” Ayala presses on, a few of the crew looking over in interest. 

“I could burn water!” Janeway laughs throatily. 

B’Elanna’s food isn’t what could be described as ‘popular’ and she takes out her frustration on her audience. 

“Bunch of mainstream pussies!” she snaps and stalks off, clutching her bowl. “Are you coming?” she demands of Tom as she passes his table. 

“Of course my sweet!” he declares after sharing an eye roll with Harry. 

The following week, Seven is cajoled into taking part. She fails to grasp the concept of the activity and stands behind the kitchen counter, eyeing up the equipment with suspicion. 

“Food is irrelevant,” she finally declares and turns her steely gaze onto her uncertain audience. “You would all benefit from a regeneration pod. It is efficient and less...” she looks at the ingredients that Neelix and the Doctor have suggested. “Unnecessary.”

With that she turns and stalks from the Mess Hall leaving a flustered Neelix to quickly knock up a Leola root soufflé. 

The weeks pass and various crew members have their turn. Harry creates a stunning ramen, Ayala prepares some deliciously spicy Fajitas complete with guacamole harvested from the avocados growing in the airponics bay. Samantha Wildman makes a comforting Mac ‘n’ Cheese which is highly popular with all the crew. 

“I’m sure I’m putting weight on with all this wonderful food!” Janeway declares to Chakotay during one of their evening meetings. Tugging at her uniform, she adds, “This is feeling tight!”

“I think you look lovely,” Chakotay replies, the words leaving his mouth without thinking. 

An awkward, loaded silence lingers between them. 

“Chak...” Janeway begins. 

“You did eat three helpings of the Mac ‘n’ Cheese!” Chakotay cuts in, trying to smooth over his awkward faux pas. 

Janeway pauses, and then laughs, choosing to follow his lead, “It was very delicious.”

“It’s been a very popular event,” Chakotay comments. 

“Will you take part?” Janeway asks slyly. 

“I don’t think so,” Chakotay shakes his head. 

“I think you should,” Janeway grins. She tucks her legs beneath her and regards her first officer with a sly smile. “As First Officer, I think it would do the crew good to see you take part.”

“Maybe you should too?” Chakotay throws back with an equally sly smile. 

“You of all people know my skills in the kitchen are disastrous to say the least, remember my pot roast?” Janeway replies, her smile slipping into something more sultry. 

“It was rather chewy,” Chakotay agreed. 

“I think you’d be great,” Janeway continues, pushing away the rather embarrassing memory of the night of her burnt roast. She smiles again, half hiding her mouth behind her coffee cup. 

“You know I don’t like to perform publicly,” Chakotay reasons, sensing he is on a losing battle now. 

“Chakotay, you’d be cooking, not clapping your hands like some ancient performing seal!” Janeway laughs. 

“A what?” Chakotay frowns at the unfamiliar phrase. 

Janeway rolls her eyes, “Sign up, Commander” she advises, her teasing tone laced with hardness and grit. “Don’t make me order you!”

It takes three more weeks of pushing and encouraging before Chakotay finally relents. Strangely, on his night, the Mess Hall is packed. Tuvok has been given the big chair and a chance to train his younger staff, which leaves most of the senior crew free to watch Chakotay cook. 

The atmosphere is charged and fizzing in the Mess Hall. 

At one point, the doctor fears he will run out of medical resources as Chakotay starts cooking. 

As his hands rub over his perfectly formed buns, the sound of the ovaries of every single species of female on board the ship can be heard simultaneously exploding.

Glancing up at his audience, Chakotay uses his sparkling eyes to make love to each and everyone of them as he explains the use of a strong, firm kneading technique in order to get a good rise.

“Kahless!” B’Elanna finally exclaims to Tom, Harry and the Captain. “This is worse than porn! I’m actually blushing!”

Tom and Harry shift awkwardly, glancing at each other, whilst feeling inadequate when compared to Chakotay and his excellent buns. 

Chakotay continues to caress and pat at his buns, flipping them over to show his adoring audience their firm bottoms. 

“Nobody likes a soggy bottom!” he winks at a young Ensign from Tactical, who promptly faints. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Tom groans, then covers his mouth as he realises he’s dropped a strong expletive near the Captain. 

Janeway meanwhile is struggling to contain the blush that threatens to engulf her whole body. She shifts in her seat and tries not to stare openly at her First Officer as he tantalisingly drizzles a sugary icing over his buns and then delicately places a glacé cherry on top. 

Gazing at her empty glass, Janeway decides she needs more alcohol and firmly crosses her legs with an internal moan of frustration. 

Damn Starfleet. Damn protocols.


End file.
